Fairytales
by newdayrising
Summary: As Doyle prepares to jump, he looks back over his life.


**Author Note - **This is a response to a challenge by gidgetgirl

_Write a first person fic that starts out with the following:_

_Once upon a time I lived a fairytale life..._

Enjoy!

**Fairytales**

Once upon a time, I lived a fairytale life.

My mum used to tell me fairytales. The brave prince fights the evil beast, saves the beautiful princess and lives happily ever after.

Of course in real life things don't work out that way.

My early life wasn't perfect, but at least it was normal. From where I am now, that seems like a fairytale. It's about as far from where I am right now as those tales of dragons and princesses.

The point I'm trying to make is that I never thought my life would turn out the way it has. I'm nobody special – I never was. I thought my life would be just like everyone else's; grow up, go to university, get a job, get married…

In fact I did all of those things.

By the time I was twenty-one, I was in San Francisco with my wife Harriet, teaching third graders. My dreams all seemed to be coming true. Yes I know that sounds clichéd, but it's how I felt.

And then one day everything changed.

There wasn't anything special about that day. I've been going over and over it in my mind since then, trying to work it out. Why then? But I can't think of any reason, it was just an average day.

I remember every detail. I was helping Harry with the cleaning, and some dust got up my nose. I sneezed, and Harry froze. When I asked her what was wrong, she managed to squeak, "Look in the mirror."

I did, and what I saw haunted me. The face looking back at me wasn't mine. It had green skin with blue spikes sticking out. As I watched, unable to look away, the image changed, and I was looking at myself.

I turned back to Harry, who still looked terrified. I'm sure I wore the same expression.

"What was that?"

"That was you, Francis."

Well, as you can imagine, things were very different from then on.

It was Harry who convinced me to call my mum about everything.

She'd never told me much about my dad, just that he left before I was born. I'd never really wanted to know more than that. You can imagine my reaction when I found out he was a demon. I hung up the phone before she'd finished speaking and slid to the ground, unable to comprehend all this.

Harry got over it all a lot faster than I did, started trying to find out information about different demons. I oscillated between thinking she was just trying to make me feel better and feeling like some kind of experiment. It seemed like every day she had some new fact. I let it all wash over me, trying to understand how she could be so fine with it. It's not every day you find out your husband's half demon. I thought she would have reacted more. Looking back, I think the real reason I couldn't believe she was OK with everything was because I wasn't.

I quit my job – I didn't trust myself around children any more. I felt like the world I knew had vanished and been replaced by something awful. I cut myself off from everyone, including Harry. She put up with it for a few months; trying to get me to open up, embrace my heritage. Eventually she gave up and we called it quits. She moved out and I was free to wallow in self-pity.

I floated around for the next few years, eventually found myself in Los Angeles. I knew there were lots of other demons there, I'd even heard something about a demon karaoke bar, but that's not why I stayed there. I stayed because it's the sort of place where no one asks questions.

I left my home to get away from demons. I didn't expect them to come and seek me out. So when one approached me, I told him to get lost. Especially since he had the same green skin and spikes that I hated.

A day or so later I was hit with my first vision. When I realised that the horrible things I'd seen had actually happened, I knew I couldn't ignore things any longer. When my next vision told me to go to some dark-haired 'vampire with a soul', I went.

And I found a purpose, a reason.

And that's why I'm standing on this platform right now, having just punched that same vampire with a soul off of it. All of this is running through my mind as I lean down and give the girl of my dreams a farewell kiss.

Maybe I did live a fairytale life. Defeat the beast, save the girl, overcome the dark past. Too bad I'm going to miss the best part. My favourite was always the happy ending.

I jump, and as my body turns to dust, one last thought breaks through.

I guess this story doesn't have one.


End file.
